


Never Too Busy For You

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 21:36:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11814651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: Masako tries not to sigh; it makes her feel a lot like some teenager with a tacky bedroom wallpaper staring at a poster of the latest idol and even at that superficial of a level she doesn’t want to compare that to this.





	Never Too Busy For You

**Author's Note:**

> (belated) hbd alex part 1! 
> 
> the first time i tried to upload this my internet broke for 20 minutes rip (also i forgot the original title so uh)

Masako’s got her phone out before she gets in the front door of her building, before she grabs the mail out of the box and tucks it under her arm (bills, junk, motorcycle magazine). It’s pressed between her cheek and shoulder, ringing, while she twists the key in the lock and pushes the door up so it’ll slide right over the saddle. Alex picks up when she’s slipping out of her work shoes, leaving them by the door next to her not-worn-enough basketball sneakers.

“Hi.”

Masako tries not to sigh; it makes her feel a lot like some teenager with a tacky bedroom wallpaper staring at a poster of the latest idol and even at that superficial of a level she doesn’t want to compare that to this. There’s no other way to say how it makes her feel, the way her body suddenly feels refreshed and she wants to sigh and close her eyes when she hears Alex’s voice. Like it’s harder to concentrate on anything else (not that she wants to).

“Hi, Alex.”

“Just got back from streetball, so you picked a good time.”

“Three in the morning is never a good time,” says Masako. 

“It’s good when you win,” says Alex. “But I’m going to try and head to bed soon.”

“How’d you win?”

“Well,” says Alex.

Masako sits down on the couch, stretching out her legs and rolling up the sleeves of her jacket. She closes her eyes and tries to picture Alex, fresh from the shower with her hair dripping onto the floor, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“It was one on one, and I got matched up with a guy who was about four inches taller than me…he was kind of slow, though, and relied more on intimidation than actual blocking. Once I got that, it was pretty easy to shoot around him. We traded back and forth for a bit, but then I got into a pattern where I was getting him on offense and forcing him back on D enough that he’d try shots that were a little too long for him. Still took longer than I expected, but it was a good match.”

“That’s good,” Masako says. “I’m glad.”

(She could say that she wishes she’d been there to see it, but then they’d probably be playing together anyway, and saying that doesn’t always do much good, especially when Alex knows it already.)

“How’d you force him back?”

“Eh, he wasn’t that aggressive on offense…I don’t think he, like, lacked confidence but I think he’s more used to passing it to someone else, driving in, and getting the ball back there. It’ll be interesting if he keeps doing one on one, how much that changes. Plus, if I’m faster I can block him on either side and switch directions, so…”

“That’s true,” says Masako, trying to picture it in her head, Alex with her knees bent, face set like a road sign, glasses slipping down her sweaty nose.

“How was your day?” Alex says. “You were deciding on the community service stuff, right?”

“Right,” says Masako. “I talked to the girls, and they said they’d love it if the kids came and taught their kids basketball. I’m not sure all the kids have that patience, but.”

“They’ll learn it,” says Alex. “You said they were fine with the kids last year.”

It’s true; Masako’s not all that worried in that regard (especially not with Himuro and Liu at the helm; they’ll make the rest fall into line if they have to) but it’s always something to keep in mind (not that she doesn’t have enough of that already), always something else to think about. At the very least, it’ll be fun for the kindergarteners and her kids will probably learn a thing or two about basketball. God knows Masako has from teaching for so long, explaining and relearning, the kind of things she wishes she’d known when she was twenty and her body would cooperate better in the execution phase.

Alex yawns on the other end, and Masako finally lets herself sigh, pushing her feet against the edge of the coffee table, flexing her toes. She has schedules to set; she’s been skipping out on sword work too much lately and yeah, she’s fucking tired but Alex is up at three in the morning on the other side of the world playing basketball and talking to her on the phone (so it’s not a one to one exchange, but still).

“Call me when you get up?” Alex says.

“You’ll be busy.”

“Maybe,” says Alex. “Never too busy for you.”

What the fuck, this isn’t fair. (When is Alex coming back? How can she say things like that and mean them so easily? That kind of thing always feels so slippery coming out of Masako’s mouth even when it’s true; she always ends up saying either more or less than she means to convey, rough where Alex stays so easily smooth, like she’d missed a day where Alex had sanded herself down.) Her cheek is warm where she touches it; half her mind is screaming at her about how the more she touches her face the worse it is for her skin but fuck that (no substitute, not even the same function as when Alex touches her face, but hey).

“Masako?”

“Yeah. I’m here. You win.”

Alex laughs (she knows exactly how Masako means it); the sound is clear even with the shitty service Masako has always had in her building. The motorcycle magazine is open in Masako’s lap and she still hasn’t gotten past the first couple of advertisements, leather companies and bike shops and parts shows, things that had barely registered with her. She’s got to pay the bills, too, but she knows when she hangs up she’s just going to sit here for a while, thinking about it, pretending like their time together is going to last just a little bit longer. Like she’s still with Alex when the connection’s cut off, because the phone’s still warm in her hand and she can hear the echoes of Alex’s voice in her ear.


End file.
